Unhinged (30 page)

I nodded, drinking half my beer in one swig.

In a flash, he was back in the refrigerator for two more. I began to wonder if Ron had traded in his caffeine for alcohol.

“Listening to songs about sailing and dreaming of a paradise where women wear nothing but coconut shells isn't what I picture you doing for the rest of your life. You would never choose this for yourself.” I waved my hand at the canal outside his back porch. “Fishing and drinking are fine for some people, but they won't be quality years for you.”

Ron looked straight down at his beer, and his jaw jutted to the left. “I think I'll adjust just fine. I haven't figured out what I'm going to do with my time yet. Do I need a plan right now?”

I had clearly struck a nerve. “Why did you take early retirement and not finish with the case, and don't give me that bullshit about it getting to you.”

“Oh, you know me after working together on a couple of cases? You don't know shit—”

“I know your type,” I interrupted. “Don't dismiss me like that. You have too much integrity to bullshit me. I can tell because your expression gets strained when you talk about your retirement. C'mon, level with me.”

I think he saw that I wasn't going to back down. His intense eyes lightened, and then he blinked. After he paused and glanced at his ceiling fan, I knew he was going to lie again. “The case was getting to me. I've seen a lot of sickos in my time, but this guy was driving me outta my mind. I couldn't sleep at night. Kathy didn't know who I was anymore. There comes a time when enough's enough.”

“I don't buy it. You're a cop trying to be a scruffy old fisherman who likes to drink before noon. You would never quit and leave me to go it alone. You're better than that.”

I was about to leave when he suddenly blasted his music, then motioned for me to follow him onto the back porch.

The breeze over the canal water invaded my nostrils. It was actually a calming smell that went well with swatting mosquitoes. We sat on a couple of green plastic chairs overlooking the weeds that flourished at the edge of the water. A flowered umbrella was shooting out from a hole in his patio table, giving us adequate shade.

Ron nodded at the boom box. “I don't trust the Feds.”

“I've seen the light myself.”

“You have me up on a pedestal.” He put on dark sunglasses the size of welder's goggles. “It's an unrealistic view of me as a detective, to say the least. Now tell me how your investigation is going.”

I slouched on my chair of flexible plastic, testing its resolve to keep me upright. “The other day I put two and two together and discovered where Paulina was. She was hidden in Dixie-Mart's freezer behind a stack of ice cream that no one ever touched. After that, I stumbled on Spider's hiding place at Donny Packard's house, our old manager. I went there without a warrant and didn't even read Packard his rights. I totally assed it up. And Spider bolted before I even pulled up to the house. Now the FBI blames me again for losing him and had me fired.” I ran my fingers through my hair.

“But you're not off the case.” Ron did know me.

“No. I'm personally involved in it. I'm not lying down for Dorrick to wipe the dog shit off his shoes.” I leaned forward and began tapping on his glass table. “I found out about a tape the Feds made with Spider's mother after we talked with her that first time. They weren't letting me see it, so I went to visit her to find out what she had told them. It wasn't nice. Plus, she knew Vorhees when he was a senator, but I couldn't get any more out of her. I also now know why he puts makeup on the women he kills.”

Ron's sunglasses reflected the noon sun. I could tell the gears in his mind were starting to spin. “Senator Vorhees? Dorrick?” He paused. “Are they following you?”

“They're trying. I got away from them today, but I don't know if I can pull it off again. Sooner or later, Spider's going to get to Jennifer. If that happens, I don't know what I'll do.”

“I was told not to tell anyone this or I'd be dealt with severely, but what the hell? I think you deserve to know the truth.”

I took a huge swallow of beer, finally finishing the bottle. After the past few days, I didn't know what I was going to be hit with next. If Ron thought he had to keep something from me, it had to be major.

“I was in with you on this case 100 percent. You know I'd never leave your back unless I had no choice. When Greenwood called me into his office, I was offered early retirement with the full package. I turned him down. You're right; I love this job. Then he told me I had to take the offer. It wasn't an option.” He began to peel his Bud Light label. The golden brew was probably part of the reason he was unloading. “I told him he was a spineless bastard for not standing up to Dorrick. I gave him some quality abuse and he just took it, but he didn't back down from the retirement deal.”

“They can't force that on you before the mandatory age, can they?”

“I asked him what would happen if I refused. He told me if I didn't retire, he would have me arrested for taking kickbacks when I first joined the force. That ball came from left field and knocked me right in the kisser. Dorrick's got everyone's number.”

“He was making it up, right?” I couldn't tell if Ron's eyes were open or not, but the way his brow crunched and his lower lip twitched, I already knew the answer.

“No,” he said, and shame crept into his expression. “He had me. Some drug dealers turned snitch ratted me out about my early days on the force. I wasn't making any money, and I had bills. I took what I could from the dealers. What else could I do? I didn't enjoy it, but the details I worked weren't paying enough, either. As I rose in the ranks, I didn't have to do that anymore, and I quit. The dealers certainly didn't mind. I never heard a thing about it until Greenwood came to me. I still wonder how the fuck he found those guys. Two were in jail, and one lives in freakin' Shreveport. I'm sure they want to make some kind of deal.”

“Unbelievable.”

Ron finished his second beer. “Take the retirement package or lose everything and be kicked off the force with possible jail time. There was no bargaining on this one. It was a fight I couldn't win, and I'm ashamed to say that I backed down.”

“That son of a bitch is sabotaging the investigation. There's no other explanation.”

Ron grabbed my arm as if I were about to spring from my chair. “If anyone finds out what I told you, charges can still be brought. You can't tell a soul. I'm trusting you.”

“I won't say a word. You can trust me. Listen, partner. I gotta run. There's a lot going on right now, a lot I gotta figure out.”

“You need me, just call. Okay?”

I shook his hand and said good-bye, letting myself out. I hoped Ron would be able to fight the demons that had recently surfaced and look back with pride over all he had accomplished. As for me, it seemed as if I were in a swamp, finding myself in deeper and deeper with the alligators.

I drove back over the Twin Span. There was too much information to sort out. I wanted to forget the whole thing for a while. I wanted to get drunk or high until my mind was a blank. As soon as I focused on one aspect of the case, another thought took it over. The President Vorhees angle had me baffled, too. Was it just gibberish from an old woman or the slip of a drugged tongue?

I arrived at my house, hoping to figure out what to do. Maybe Spider had been foolish enough to leave a message on my machine. As I jetted up my walkway, I immediately noticed something hanging from my door. When I got closer, I saw that the black object had eight legs and red menacing eyes. In a panic, I tore the spider off my door and searched for a note or the clue that Gene had mentioned. I ripped off its legs one by one, not finding a damn thing. I glanced at the street to find a Fed sitting in a car, but there were none. The surveillance had left.

I ran inside shouting Jennifer's name, but there was no answer and no sign of a struggle. But why would there be? She was at work all day. I checked every room and our backyard, grateful not to find her body horribly mangled.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I yelled as I ran for the phone. I punched in 2 for the speed dial, and it seemed to ring for all of hell's eternity.

“Children's Same Day Surgery Unit.”

“Is Jennifer Wilder there?” I pronounced her name with hard syllables.

“No, I'm sorry. She left some time ago. Can I help you?”

“This is her fiancé. I need to know where she is. Is there anyone who can tell me where the hell she went?” My patience was all but gone.

“Oh, Decland. It's Vicki. I was standing right next to her when she got an urgent phone call. She only told me that she had to leave.”

“When was this?” I wanted to throw the phone across the room as I imagined Vicki staring up at a clock.

“About an hour ago. Is something wrong? She looked upset when she left.”

“Are you sure no one spoke to her before she left?” It was a last-ditch attempt.

“I don't think so. It's possible an orderly saw her leave, but she didn't look like she would've stopped for anyone. She was in a hurry.”

I slammed the phone down without saying good-bye. This was it. Spider had Jennifer, and I had no idea where she could be. Donny Packard was the only person who could possibly give me a clue to his whereabouts, and he was under lock and key. Why hadn't I been protecting Jennifer instead of leaving her alone? If I had just stayed by her side instead of trying to play cowboy, Spider would have never attempted to kidnap her.

Should I swallow my pride and call Dorrick? My main concern with contacting that stick of dynamite was that I might not be able to pull out the fuse. Whose side was he really on? I was about to call Detective Bienvenue when my cell phone rang.

It was Agent Wayne.

M
y brain was operating faster than my mouth when I answered the call. “Spider's got Jennifer. He kidnapped her from the hospital. She's gone.” I stopped and caught my breath, wondering if Wayne was still on the phone.

“Try to relax. I have some information. Meet me at the location written on the piece of paper inside the mailbox of the house directly across the street from you. Do it now, and make sure you aren't followed.”

The call dropped.

I closed the phone. I wasn't going to do Jennifer any good in this spastic state. Instead, I forced myself to become angry, channeling all my anxiety and fear into determination. There would be no panic.
There would be no panic.

The FBI team that had been watching me was probably still at the station, but as I drove Bienvenue's car down St. Charles, I checked behind me occasionally until I was on Canal Street in the heart of the Quarter. I tailgated and made swift lane changes without my siren on. It seemed I couldn't get anywhere fast enough. Soon I made my way onto Decatur and turned into the Moon Walk's parking lot. It was afternoon, and Jackson Square was a painting of tourists.

The Moonwalk was named after Mayor Moon Landrieu and located on the bank of the Mississippi, providing a beautiful view of the Greater New Orleans Bridge and a portion of the city's skyline. It was merely a brick land pier that stretched along the banks of the river. Directly in the middle at the entrance was a flight of steps about ten yards wide leading to the water for toe-dipping. Only the drunk and the brave ever attempted to get in.

Agent Wayne was sitting at the farthest end of the walkway on the last bench, blocked on both sides by three-foot-tall tree boxes.

I strolled to him as casually as possible. I respected Wayne for being a top-notch agent, with excellent profiling skills. After talking to Ron, I began to think that Wayne was forced off the case also.

I sat down near him on the very edge of the bench. “How are you?” I inquired with the lip movement of a ventriloquist.

“Don't worry. We're safe. I have an old friend looking out for us.” Wayne's gaze seemed to be in a far-off place. He looked like the average tourist with his Gilligan hat and preppy, collared shirt.

“What do you have for me? Jennifer is out there with that nut job.” I envisioned a sniper taking one of us out from the GNO Bridge.

“I can't hold my silence any longer,” he said with a wheeze as he crossed his legs and pretended to ignore me. He pulled a newspaper from under his ass and began to talk into it. “It may seem like I was reassigned, but the fact is, the bureau's railroading me and I've been trying desperately to live with myself—to live with the guilt.”

“Do you know where Jennifer is?” I tried to get to the point.

“No. But I can help you understand why Spider hasn't been captured yet. It could mean the end of me, but I can't live with myself otherwise.”

“What's going on?” I people watched as Wayne explained. I didn't know if anyone was spying on us, but all this cloak-and-dagger business had become tiresome.